


Snow Angels

by alysian_fields



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Christmas, Holidays, M/M, Wingfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-03-08
Updated: 2011-03-08
Packaged: 2017-10-16 19:35:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,409
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/168612
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alysian_fields/pseuds/alysian_fields
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's the first real 'family' Christmas Dean's had for as long as he can remember. For once, things are going good for the Winchesters, and if only Dean felt more secure in his relationship with Castiel things would be perfect. Luckily, Castiel has thought of the perfect gift to make it up to him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Snow Angels

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sparrowsarahnade](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=sparrowsarahnade).



Dean wasn’t used to this. Having a cup of cheap eggnog and watching crappy TV in a motel room with Sam was one thing, but a full-on Christmas dinner with a full-on (albeit very weird) extended family? Definitely new territory. He suspected that no one else could boast that they spent Christmas day listening to a demon and a hunter fight in the kitchen over how best to prepare turkey, and a former archangel and a fangirl discussing the most important plotlines of _The X-Files_ in the dining room. His life, Dean thought, was _different_. Although he was starting to come around to the idea that different could actually be… pretty good.

“Are you kidding me?” he heard Crowley shout. “You have to _braise it with lemon juice_ , otherwise it just _will not work_!”

“I do not _braise_!” Bobby retorted angrily, and Dean thought he’d better go intervene before anything got broken.

Crowley was eyeing Bobby with the deepest disappointment. “When did you last cook something that wasn’t microwaveable?”

“Will you _shut up_? Who invited you anyway?” Bobby looked furious, but Dean couldn’t help thinking that his anger was slightly undermined by the ‘Kiss the Chef’ apron he had on.

“Oh, is this the thanks I get? I happen to be quite the gourmet chef!”

“Then how about you actually get off your ass and _do something to help_ instead of telling me I should be _braising_ or _flambéing_ or—”

“Hey, this is a Brooks Brothers suit! I’m not going to risk getting gravy on it. Now either take my advice, or serve up a sub-par Christmas dinner. It’s entirely up to you. Besides, it’s not like I didn’t contribute anything. I brought mistletoe.” He grinned at the hunter devilishly. “Care to revisit old times?”

Bobby threw a ladle at him. “Would you get the hell out of my kitchen already? And don’t think for one moment that you’ll be staying past dinner. Jody’s coming over this evening, and I do _not_ want you—”

Crowley interrupted with a dramatic sigh. “Cheating on me already! Oh, Bobby, where did it all go wrong?”

“Will you SHUT UP!”

On second thoughts, Dean wasn’t going to get involved. He grabbed a beer from the fridge and skulked back to the dining room.

“I cried when that show finished,” Gabriel was saying. “I mean, I actually _cried_. And it’s not just because Gillian Anderson is a babe. Do you realize how much inspiration it provided me with?”

“I can imagine,” Becky replied.

Gabriel had brought a large bag of M&Ms with him, and the two were sitting at the dining room table sharing its contents. A weird sight if ever Dean saw one.

“The alien episodes were my favorite,” Gabriel said through a mouth of candy. “Do you know how many of the supposed alien abduction scares America has experienced over the years are down to me? Thousands. Roswell? All me.”

“Seriously?”

“Yup.”  
“You know,” Dean interjected, “you two might want to ease up on the snacking. Bobby’s about to blow a fuse as it is; if you don’t eat any of this dinner then I won’t be responsible for anything he might do to you. Actually, Gabriel, why the hell aren’t you making yourself useful?”

Gabriel raised an eyebrow. “Dean, do I look like a guy who is helpful in the kitchen? I brought dessert, what more do you want? Anyway, where’s Sam with the eggnog?”

Dean shrugged. “He said he wouldn’t be too long, but he has to go pick Sarah up from the airport too. He’ll be back for dinner.” That was the latest news in their ‘family’ – Sam had met Sarah Blake, whom he had had a brief romance with a few years back, while working a case in Maine. They had been in touch pretty much incessantly ever since, and it seemed that they were now enough of a ‘thing’ for Sarah to come to Christmas dinner. Dean was happy for his brother: Sarah was undeniably good for Sam. Also, from a more selfish point of view, it took a lot of the attention off the recent developments in his own personal life.

Becky was looking a little dejected, and Gabriel gave her a nudge. “Buck up, kiddo. You can do so much better than that weird alcoholic prophet guy. I mean… have you ever considered dating an angel? We’re not all prudes, you know. And seriously, angel sex? You’ll never look back. I mean, we’re amazing. Ammarite, Dean?”

Dean scowled.

“Oh, come on! We all know you’ve been corrupting my little brother. Now tell this charming young lady about our considerable _talents_ in the sack.”

“Bite me, Gabriel,” Dean said, trying to ignore the fact that Becky was looking at him with starry eyes. “And back off. If Becky can do better than Chuck, she can sure as hell do better than _you_.”

It was strange how protective Dean felt towards Becky now, especially considering what a nuisance he had thought her in the early days of their acquaintance. Still, she was part of this now, part of their world, and it had only seemed natural that she had been invited to celebrate the holiday season with them. Becky, of course, had jumped at the chance, and Sam and Dean had done their best not to be freaked out when she asked if they could do a dramatic reading of _A Very Supernatural Christmas_. She had a good heart, and she was never afraid to help them out in a crisis. In some respects, Dean was beginning to feel the same affection for her that he had felt for Jo. It was still painful to think of Jo and Ellen. There were definitely people who should be here and weren’t.

“Oh, unclench!” Gabriel sighed, draping an arm around Becky’s shoulders. “Why should you get to have all the fun? Come on, tell her how good we are! At least tell her about the _wing_ thing!”

“Gabriel, back the hell off and leave Becky alone! Or your Christmas dinner will be brussels sprouts. I’m not kidding.”

Dean left, hoping that no one had noticed his discomfort. God, why the hell did Gabriel have to start talking about sex? The last thing Dean needed was a reminder that even though he and Cas had been more than… had been… had decided that their relationship meant more to both of them than they had previously let on weeks ago now, sex wasn’t exactly a part of it. It had been over a month since that first terrified kiss, and they hadn’t actually _done_ anything. There had been kissing. Lots and lots of kissing. And, much to Dean’s embarrassment, there had been a considerable amount of cuddling as well. _Not_ that he had instigated any of that. Mostly.

It was frustrating to say the least, and it wasn’t even as if he could talk to Cas about it, because the angel seemed so satisfied with what they already had. The way he looked at Dean after every kiss, like he was amazed that anything could feel so good. The way he sighed with repletion after every embrace. Dean would think, if he didn’t know that Cas wasn’t _completely_ naive, that he’d thought kissing was all there was to it. Maybe that was all Cas really needed from him. Maybe Dean was just being human and trivial to be frustrated, to want more.

It wasn’t as if Dean thought Cas would withhold anything from him, either. That was the truly disturbing thing. Dean knew, deep down, that Castiel would give him anything he wanted. Much as he hated to admit it, the person holding them back from consummating their relationship was Dean himself.

Sometimes when Cas visited him at night, Dean had been so close to making it happen. He had looked into Cas’s eyes, pupils blown with desire, and he’d been so sure of the answering _yes_. But something had always stopped him, made him roll over onto his back, break contact, frustrated. And then Cas would smile at him contentedly, seemingly oblivious to the raging desires coursing through the hunter. Because really, what right had Dean to this? Castiel was an _angel_. Before Dean, he had only known Paradise, and already he had been so disillusioned. Dean had done that, and what right had he to take Castiel’s purity as well? It was surely a sin. Cas was perfect and untouched, and Dean had no right to change that.

And Dean had himself to protect as well, because as far as being with Cas went, sex _meant_ something. It wasn’t just fun anymore. Dean couldn’t do _that_ with the angel, knowing full well that it would only make things harder when Cas left him. Everyone Dean has ever loved has left him in the end – why should Cas be any different? It was hard enough as it was, with the angel appearing and disappearing at a moment’s notice.

Dean got that Castiel had other responsibilities that didn’t involve him, and he tried not to resent it, he really did. It was just difficult when normally Dean was the one calling the shots, and now he was with someone who could just come and go whenever he pleased, and really there was no way of knowing if he would ever come back. A lot of the time Dean felt kind of like an army wife, and he hated it. He hated how Cas was never there when he woke up. He hated how needy it was making him. It wasn’t that Dean was new to the feeling of needing people, of course. It was just that he’d never been so completely powerless in his need before. He didn’t even know if Castiel was going to show up at all today. Still, Dean was _not_ going to call him. It was one thing being desperate, it was quite another to be _demonstrably_ so.

He opened the front door and stood on the porch looking out over Bobby’s salvage yard. The sun was shining weakly. Dean wished that it was colder. It didn’t seem right having such mild weather at Christmas somehow.

A hand was placed on Dean’s shoulder. “I’m sorry I’m late,” Castiel said.

Dean was _not_ going to let on how happy he was. “Glad you could make it.”

Castiel smiled at him. “I know how important this is to you; I wouldn’t miss it.”

“Important to _me_? I figured that it’d be pretty important to you, being an angel and all.”

“Dean, you know that this is not the actual date of Christ’s birthday, don’t you? It was actually usurped by early Christians from—”

“Yeah, yeah, Pagan festivals. Been there, done that, don’t need to revisit it any time soon.”

Castiel followed him into the house and through to Bobby’s front room, but stopped abruptly when he saw the tree. “I suppose you think that’s funny, Dean.”

Dean followed Castiel’s gaze to the top of the tree, where a little dude wearing a beige trenchcoat had been affixed.

“Just going for authenticity,” Dean replied with an easy grin.

Castiel returned his smile grudgingly.

“I’m glad you’re here, Cas.”

“So am I.”

“I feel like…” Dean rubbed the back of his neck, not looking at the angel. He knew that he could say stuff to Cas that he couldn’t say to anyone else, because Cas didn’t think like other people. He knew that Cas might not necessarily understand him, but he would never judge him or mock him. Even so, Dean hated talking about his feelings. Whenever he tried it was like a knot forming in his throat and everything got stuck in his chest and wouldn’t come out. It was easier to brush things aside, make a joke, even outright lie. But he knew from experience that Cas wouldn’t let him get away with that. “I feel like I don’t really… I mean, I know that I have no _claim_. I know you’re this all-powerful angel, and… and I’ve always been yours, right from the moment you brought me back, but…”

Castiel gently takes hold of his hand. “Dean, look at me. _Look_ at me. I know what’s troubling you, but you have nothing to worry about. Wherever I am, I am yours.”

Dean knew that he should be making some sort of joke about how sappy this conversation had gotten, but all he could do was stand there as Castiel leant in and softly kisses him. “I know how hard it is for you to have faith,” the angel whispered against his lips. “I know that none of this is easy. But I will make it up to you, I promise you that.”

…

 

Christmas dinner went far better than Dean could have anticipated. Bobby and Crowley seemed to have gotten over their disagreements, and the food was delicious. Sarah got on famously with everyone, in spite of Sam’s somewhat eccentric introduction (“Sarah, you know Dean and Bobby. This is the angel Castiel. He’s Dean’s… special friend. That’s Crowley. He’s a demon and last year he made out with Bobby so that Bobby could walk again. That’s the Archangel Gabriel, who now spends most of his time ruining people’s lives with his ‘pranks’, and eating candy. And this is Becky. She used to write erotic fanfiction wherein Dean and I were in an incestuous relationship, and now she helps us out with cases. Everyone, this is Sarah!”).

After dinner they watched _It’s a Wonderful Life_ on TV, and Castiel and Gabriel complained about the inaccuracies. Apparently, Clarence was far two amiable for an angel (Dean couldn’t argue with that). The ringing bell thing, however, turned out to be true. Dean was feeling pleasantly sleepy. He was just drunk enough to be comfortable with squashing himself up next to Castiel on the sofa in front of the others. He was quite content to stay exactly where he was for the rest of the evening, enjoying a rare moment of peace with his weird extended family.

He was actually quite annoyed when Castiel grabbed his wrist abruptly and said, “Thank you for having me, but Dean and I have to be going now. Enjoy the rest of your evening.”

Dean looked at him, confused. Where the hell were they going? This was the first he had heard of it. He was about to argue, but Castiel had that ‘defy me at your peril’ look on his face. “Um… yeah. We have to… um… go.” He got to his feet, swaying a little. Bobby and Sam muttered goodbyes, looking a little uncomfortable. Gabriel, Crowley and Becky had big shit-eating grins on their faces. Poor Sarah seemed to have resigned herself to not knowing what the hell was going on, and politely said goodnight to them.

Dean waited until they were on the front porch to say anything. “Cas, what the hell? Where are we going? And why was I not involved in this decision?”

Castiel gave him a brief, nervous glance. “It’s a surprise.”

“A surprise?”

“Your Christmas present.”

“You… got me something?”

“Well, it’s not really a _thing_ , but I… wanted to…” He swallowed. “Dean, may I transport you? There’s somewhere I want you to see.”

“I… well sure, I guess. Cas, are you okay? You’re being weird. More so than usual.”

“I… I just hope that you like it. I think I am nervous.”

“Hey, it’s okay,” Dean said. “I will, just… you know, tell me what’s going on.”

Castiel smiled then. “That would spoil the surprise.” He stepped forward and gently touched the tips of his fingers to Dean’s forehead.

The first thing that Dean noticed was the cold. It was piercing and pure, and it took his breath away. And then he realized that they were standing in the middle of a goddamn forest – god knows where – and that he was up to his knees in snow.

“Bavaria.” Cas answered his unspoken question.

“Bavaria.” Dean couldn’t quite catch his breath. “You… you’ve brought me to _Bavaria_?”

“You wanted snow. Last week, when you and Bobby were discussing Christmas, you said that it would be ‘awesome’ if it snowed, and Bobby said that it never snowed where he lives, and you said it was a shame.”

“So you’ve… you’ve… Cas, you’re awesome.”

The moonlight was bright enough for him to see Castiel’s answering smile. He looked so damn pleased with himself that he’d done something right that Dean couldn’t resist pulling him into a hug, despite the fact that he was starting to lose the feeling in his fingers.

“Come with me,” Cas said against his cheek. “There’s more.” He took Dean’s hand and pulled him along, moving effortlessly through the snow, Dean stumbling behind. There was no denying that the forest was beautiful. Enormous fir trees towered overhead, and Dean could see glimpses of the starry sky beyond them. The snow was thick and unsullied, glittering in the silvery light. Dean had never seen snow quite like it. Trust Castiel to have found a place like this.

They had been walking for about five minutes, and Dean had lost pretty much all feeling in his extremities, when he caught sight of a little square of orange light through the trees.

“There,” Castiel said, completely unaffected by the cold. “Not far now.”

As they approached the light, Dean saw that it was coming from the window of a tiny log cabin, almost completely covered by snow, in a clearing of the forest.

“Who lives there?” he asked.

“Tonight, we do.”

“Cas, what’s going on?”

“I’ll explain in time. Let’s just get you in the warm.”

Dean wasn’t going to argue with that. The cabin looked cosy and inviting. Castiel gave his hand a squeeze, and Dean realized how far the angel had come. Cas was not only aware of the fact that Dean had human needs now, he actually cared about them. It was nice to be the one who was taken care of for a change. He supposed it was selfish, but it was such a relief to be with someone and not have to constantly worry about keeping them safe. Castiel was the one keeping Dean safe not the other way round, and Dean had never felt that kind of support before. Even when he was a kid and John was still around, Dean had been the protector, the comforter, the one who kept their dad going. It was blessed relief to finally have someone who didn’t need him to be strong all the time.

Castiel opened the door to the cabin, and they stepped inside. The first thing Dean noticed was a huge log fire, and it could not have been a more welcome sight. The room smelled like pine and spice. There were sheepskin rugs piled up in front of the fireplace, and Castiel was staring at them intently for some reason.

Dean’s teeth were still chattering, and he stamped his feet to dislodge the snow that was caked around his boots. “I don’t suppose there’s a chance of a cup of coffee?” His fingers were aching where the feeling was starting to come back.

The angel looked up at him, almost as if he had forgotten for a moment that Dean was there. “Oh! I’m… sorry. You’re cold. Um… sit. Sit down. I’ll… you like hot chocolate, don’t you?”

“Well, yeah, but why are you—”

“Just sit.” Cas practically shoved him into a squashy armchair facing the fire. “I’ll return momentarily. You… stay.”

Before Dean could say anything else, Castiel had disappeared. What the hell was going on? All this was amazing, and this cabin was like something out of a Christmas card, but Dean felt like he’d missed something. Castiel was being weird and jumpy, and it was starting to make him nervous.

“Here!” Castiel said from right behind him, making Dean jump. “Hot chocolate.” He pushed a large, steaming mug into Dean’s hands, and sat down in the chair across from him. The angel had gotten himself a hot chocolate as well, and while Dean was waiting for his to cool a little, Cas downed his in one, slamming the empty mug down on the little table beside him as if it was a shot glass.

“Um, Cas?” Dean took a cautious sip of his own drink. It was delicious. “Cas, what the hell is going on? You’re making me nervous, dude.”

Castiel gave him a brief look, then got up to stand by the fire, his back to Dean. “I told you that I wanted to give you something.”

“Yeah, and this is awesome. I mean, I’ve never… no one’s ever…”

“This isn’t it. I mean, it’s not all of it.”

“What, then?”

Castiel did look at him then. “I want to give you myself.” He looked so unsure, so tentative, and it made Dean ache.

“You… what?”

“Dean, I brought you here with the intention of seducing you.”

Dean choked on his hot chocolate, and Castiel waited silently for him to recover. “Seduce me?” Dean’s voice came out much higher than he had intended.

“Yes. I…” Castiel frowned. “Um… Dean, I want you to ravish me.”

“ _What_?”

“Is that… did I say it wrong?”

Dean was feeling a little shell-shocked. “Well, I… I mean…”

“Because I asked Becky for advice about this, and she showed me some stories that people had written on the Internet about us, and in one of them I told you that I wanted you to ravish me and you responded very favourably.”

Dean was glad that he was already sitting down. “You… asked Becky?”

“She was very happy to help. Much better than Bobby. He did not seem willing to discuss the matter at all.”

“You spoke about this to Bobby?” Dean said weakly.

“Yes. And Sam just ran away.”

“Cas, just so I know, have you left me anyone in my family who I can look in the eye ever again?”

Castiel looked away. “I have done something wrong, haven’t I?”

Dean got up and walked around the room restlessly. “No, I… I mean, it would’ve been good if you hadn’t, you know, discussed our personal life with everyone I know, but—”

“I apologize. I had no intention of humiliating you. I just wanted this to be… I have no prior experience in these matters, and I wanted it to be right. I wanted to make you happy.”

He looked so dejected that Dean felt his own panic abate. The last thing he wanted was for Castiel to feel bad. “Hey, it’s… it’s okay. You just need to give me a minute, all right? I mean, you’ve kind of taken me by surprise here.” He walked over to the angel, and gently touched his chin, lifting it so that Cas was looking him in the eyes. “Cas, are you saying that… I mean is this what you actually want? Because if you’re just saying these things because you think it would make me happy, then—”

“I want it. I thought that you would instigate something long before this. At first I believed you had reservations because my corporeal form is that of a man, but I soon realized that this was not the case. Sometimes when we kissed you would turn away from me, even though I could feel your desire consuming you, and the urge you had to satisfy it. I didn’t understand why at first, but then it occurred to me that you thought it would be wrong, somehow. A sin on your part.”

“Isn’t it?” Dean whispered, feeling weak from being in such close proximity to the angel. “Cas, I have no right to—”

“You have every right. I am yours. And sex in itself isn’t a sin, Dean. It is supposed to be enjoyed.”

“But you’re an angel, and… and the things I want to do to you… the things I think about…”

“I know what you want to do. I am not naïve. And I am telling you now that it’s okay. I would have given it to you long before this. I want to be the one giving you pleasure.”

“God, Cas, you don’t know what you’re—”

“Yes, I do. I want you. I want to experience this thing with you.”

Dean’s hands were all over Castiel without him even realizing it, touching the angel’s face, his arms his chest, still not quite daring, not quite, to reach out and take. “I… I can really do this?” He was practically pleading now, not quite believing that it really was okay, that it wouldn’t ruin everything, that Cas wouldn’t leave.

In response, Castiel grabbed the lapels of Dean’s jacket and pulled him into a fierce kiss. Dean couldn’t take it anymore, couldn’t hold back. Months and months of longing and need and denial were balled up inside him, and he didn’t have the strength to resist anymore. Castiel smelled like the snow outside, and he tasted sweet and otherworldly, and Dean wanted him more than he’d wanted anything in his life. He was tearing Cas’s clothes away, pulling him to the floor. Castiel was whispering his name over and over.

Dean forced himself to pull back then, and he looked down at the angel, lying breathless and dark eyed on the soft sheepskin rug. “Cas…”

“No, it’s all right. You couldn’t hurt me even if you tried. Dean… do whatever you want to me.”

In that moment, Dean lost even his ability to care if this was wrong or not. He would _die_ if he didn’t do this. Castiel was returning his caresses now, learning how to touch, making soft noises of surprise when Dean did something that felt good. It made Dean feel like he was going to lose his mind completely. He wanted this for himself so badly, but more than that he wanted this for Castiel. He wanted to make the angel really feel something. He wanted to show Cas, in his stupid human way, how grateful he was for everything.

Castiel arched as Dean planted bruising kisses down his chest, his fingers digging painfully into Dean’s back, when there was a sudden… Dean could only describe it as an explosion of energy, like electricity, filling the room. He looked up in alarm and saw Castiel looking as shocked as Dean felt, huge raven-black wings protruding from his shoulders.

“Cas?”

“I… I’m so sorry! I didn’t know that would happen!”

“It’s okay! I mean, are _you_ okay? Does it hurt? Are you—”

“No, I… It was just that what you were doing felt… it felt so good, and… and this just… happened.”

Oh. So maybe this was what Gabriel had meant earlier when he’d said about the _wing thing_.

“I’m sorry,” Castiel said again, and he was actually _blushing_. “I’ll… try to get rid of them. This has never happened before.”

“Hey, it’s okay!” Dean stroked his hair soothingly. “It’s okay. You’re…” Dean looked at the wings. They were almost too big to believe, stretching the entire length of the cabin. The feathers were black, but they had a petroleum sheen to them, green and blue, and the light of the fire danced off them. “Cas, they’re amazing,” he said softly.

“It doesn’t make you… uncomfortable? Dean, I’m not human, and I—”

“You think I don’t know that? I know what you are, and I love everything about it. Don’t ever think that I… that anything about you wouldn’t be amazing to me. God, the fact that you’re even willing to be here with me means… it means everything, Cas.”

Cas was looking at him in that beautiful melting way of his that made Dean’s insides hurt.

Dean glanced at the wings again, shyly. “Can I… can I touch them?”

Castiel swallowed, then nodded.

Dean reached out tentatively, and stroked the wings where the feathers looked gossamer-soft by Castiel’s shoulder. A frisson of electric heat passed through him as he did so, making him gasp. He felt Castiel shudder beneath him, and he smiled. “You liked that?”

Castiel bit his lip, nodded again.

Emboldened, Dean stroked his fingers through the feathers again, lingering this time. They were so soft, even though he could feel the powerful sinew and tendons beneath, and there was that shiver of heat again, making his breath catch, making him ache.

Castiel gave a soft growl and pulled Dean into a kiss that was almost violent. It was washing over them in waves now, this power, this heat. It went all the way through them. They moved together, chasing it, knowing that it could consume them both at any moment. The way they fit together, the way Castiel looked at him like he was amazed anything could feel so good, it was almost too much. Slowly, Castiel lifted his wings and wrapped them around Dean’s back so that he was enclosed in a cocoon of silky feathers. So that he felt that mind-melting, all-consuming electrical charge _all over_ , and god, it was too perfect. Castiel gripped him tighter, head thrown back, feeling it just as Dean was, and Dean noticed for the first time that there was a soft, golden light coming from the angel, gently pulsating as they moved together. It was like a heartbeat, a rhythm Dean could almost hear, growing stronger and stronger until finally it consumed them both, tearing through them, tearing them apart, obliterating everything in rough bursts of electric bliss. Dean thought maybe he was dying, but it didn’t matter as long as death was like this.

…

Dean didn’t dream at all that night, which was a welcome change. He thought later that he must have lost consciousness in Castiel’s arms. When he woke up the next morning, however, he was alone. The fire had gone out. Dean could see white light coming through the cabin windows, and a glance told him that it was snowing heavily outside. But where the hell was Cas? Dean sat up, trying to disentangle himself from the blankets he was wrapped in. His heart was thudding dully. Had the angel just left him here? Had Dean done something wrong, or had something happened? Was it because of what had happened last night? Dean tried to flick the switch in his brain that would enable him to think methodically like a soldier, make a plan of strategy, but somehow he couldn’t quite manage it.

Just when panic was really starting to set in, Castiel just appeared in the middle of the room, looking slightly windswept and holding a large paper bag.

“Where the hell did you go?” Dean said harshly, more angry with himself for getting so worked up.

Castiel grimaced. “I’d… I’d hoped to return before you woke up. I’m sorry.” His voice was soft. “I know you hate it when you wake up and I’m gone.”

“You know that, huh?”

“Yes.”

Dean was painfully aware that he was only wearing a fluffy rug. “So… where were you?”

“Well, the one thing that Bobby did tell me when I asked his advice was that I should get you breakfast the morning after. So… I did.” He held out the paper bag. “I know that pie is your favourite, but I wasn’t sure which one you would prefer, so I got all of them. The lady in the shop kept trying to give them to me for free. I think she thought I was homeless.”

Dean laughed, his anger melting away. “Well, I can’t say I blame her. You’ve never actually dressed yourself, have you?” Castiel was barefoot, and the buttons on his shirt were askew.

“I’m sorry if I—”

“Would you stop apologizing? You’ve… I mean, this is the best Christmas present _ever_.”

Castiel smiles slowly. “Ever?”

“Definitely. But you know, I never got to give you _your_ present.”

“My present?”

“Mm-hm. And after last night… I think I can think of a few things you might _really_ like.”

They would have to go back home soon, Dean knew that. He would have to start thinking about his job and his life, and he would have to return to the role or protector that he had worn for so many years. But first there would be pie. And then there would be kisses and love and falling snow melting against soft, dark feathers that wrapped Dean in their warmth, and reminded him that he had been saved. Again and again.


End file.
